


Calculus

by Michael Alexander (MistressOakdown)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Koschei being an asshole, Math, as usual, the worst possible warning, then being less of an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 19:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21462940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOakdown/pseuds/Michael%20Alexander
Summary: Prompt: Reader is trying to do her math homework, and The Master isn’t the best at handling someone else’s school stress. Also known as "The Master is an asshole, but actually regrets it for once".
Relationships: Simm!Master/Reader, The Master (Simm)/Reader, The Master (Simm)/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	Calculus

Is it normal to read the same page seven times and still not understand a word on it? That was a good question, and also the question currently running through the head of The Doctor’s current companion. Though most of your time was spent on the TARDIS, you refused to let yourself fall back on your studies. It took a while to figure out how to pull it off, but balancing college and saving the world wasn’t as difficult as it may seem. Well, it wasn’t as much that you were actually going to college, but The Doctor managed to snag most of the materials that you’d be learning over your four years there anyway, so in your time between crashes and travels you worked on school things.

Most of your work was child’s play to you; You were relatively bright for your age. However, there was one subject that you loathed more than the Daleks themselves. The subject that you would travel through time to the end of the universe to escape. The subject that tempts you to go back in time to meet Archimedes himself, just to stomp on his foot with your sharpest pair of heels.

Math.

More specifically, Calculus.

There are a lot of classes that most people consider difficult that didn’t bother you. Creative Writing, Music, History… none of those confused you in the slightest. Something about anything with numbers just… broke your brain. This wouldn’t really be a problem if it weren’t for the two genius aliens on the same ship you were currently residing on. Oh yes, you got to deal with double-trouble. Not only did you have to deal with The Doctor, who was too smart for his own good by himself, but you also got to deal with his frenemy, The Master, who was (arguably) even smarter than The Doctor. He was currently placed in what was basically house arrest by his friend, and this just meant that now you had both of them to deal with. Speaking of which, the taller, fluffier-haired of the duo was currently looking over your shoulder, reading your textbook.

“Can I help you?” You questioned, marking your page quickly before snapping your book shut and turning to look at the timelord.

“Well,” he began, doing his signature over-accentuation of the word, “I was more thinking that I could help you.” He responded, reaching for your textbook. You yelped, quickly shifting it away from him, keeping it closed.

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, probably sounding more nervous than you meant to sound.

The Doctor looked at your curiously, glancing between the book and your wide eyes, your lips pulled into a tight line.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked, his hand resting on your shoulder. You debated not answering, but a look up into his concerned face broke any resolve you had.

“I’ve been working on this for the last hour, and I don’t understand a word of it. I don’t get a single page of this book, and it’s making me feel stupid. I need help, but I know if I ask you, I’ll feel even stupider because I’ll feel like you’re smarter than me.”

Of course, that would be when the other resident genius would enter the room.

“That’s because we are smarter than you. Can’t compare a supercomputer with a child’s calculator.” The Master popped off, stepping into the room far enough to lean against one of the walls, a smug look on his face. The Doctor shot him a glare before turning back to you. The Master’s comments usually didn’t bother you; Most of the time you’d go back and forth, bantering for hours, but after the stress that your mind had already been going through, something about his offhand comment was just the last straw. Tears began welling up in your eyes, and it was only a few seconds before there were hot tears rolling down your face. The Doctor turned to The Master, whose face had already fallen from his signature smirk to a concerned frown. He glanced at The Doctor before stepping closer, but The Doctor shot a hand out, telling him to stop. The two timelords’ eyes were fixed on you, and for once, neither of them really knew what to do.

You were experiencing a mix of embarrassment, anger, sadness, and probably several other emotions that couldn’t even be put into human words. The embarrassment of not understanding what was most likely elementary stuff to your friends, the anger at yourself for not understanding, and the sadness of one of the people closest to you mocking you was all too much. You moved away from The Doctor’s hand, getting up from your chair and shoving past The Master as you rush out of the room.

One thing about a bigger on the inside ship is that, to a human like yourself, it’s like living in a labyrinth. It didn’t help that your mind was going a thousand miles a minute. After a few seconds that seemed like several minutes to you, you stumbled into a doorway that the TARDIS materialized for you. You closed the door behind you, before turning to see where you were. You guessed that the TARDIS felt bad for you because the door had opened to the bedroom that The Doctor had designated as yours when you first became his companion.

You glanced around the room, your eyes landing on a frame on your bed stand with three pictures inside it. You walked over to it, picking it up gently. One of you and The Doctor on your first adventure, one of all three of you, The Doctor grinning, The Master rolling his eyes, and you in the middle, and the third one. It was one of the rare moments that you caught The Master in a genuinely good mood, and you’d asked him to take a picture with you. To your surprise, he said yes, and (as far as you know) you’re the only human in creation that can say she has a picture of herself next to The Master smiling and holding up a peace sign (he was probably mocking you by doing that, but you chose to ignore that). Looking at the picture, your now dry eyes began watering up again.

The Master was a criminal, The Doctor said. He was a murderer. He was everything that you and The Doctor had been fighting against all this time, and yet you let yourself get attached. You let yourself try to find the good in this being that had waged wars across all of time and space, and now you’re upset that he didn’t live up to your imagination. How could you be so stupid?

You were in the middle of berating yourself when you heard something fall behind you. You turned to see The Master barely inside your room, a broken alarm clock on the ground. He looked down at it before looking back up at you.

“It caught my sleeve.” He explained, his voice lacking its usual cockiness. His shoulders were slightly slumped, and his entire being seemed to be more deflated than usual. You turned away, looking at the photo one more time before placing it back on the dresser. You coughed to clear your throat and turned back to The Master, putting on an annoyed look on your face to (hopefully) draw attention away from the wetness in your eyes.

“I came to… apologize.” He got out, his voice sounding like it almost pained him to say the simple four words. He looked more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen him. It was like he’d never apologized to anyone in his nearly millennia-long life. You began to think that maybe he hadn’t. He kept your gaze as you analyzed him, before you looked away, whether out of annoyance or sadness, you weren’t sure.

“Why would you apologize to an ape, as you so often call my species?” You asked bitterly, masking your hurt with faux anger. You could feel his stare on the back of your head before you heard footsteps coming closer to you. They were right behind you before you turned quickly, only to be dangerously close to the other party in your room. He couldn’t have been more than a foot from you.

You looked up at him nervously, his normal superiority complex seemingly returned as he smirked down at you. The smirk held a different tone than usual, though. It almost seemed softer. The two of you stared for a few moments before you looked down at your feet._ ‘He only came in here to mock you’_ you thought._ ‘He can’t put anyone above himself or his ego for one-’_

“You’re not an ape.” You suddenly heard, and it took every ounce of your will to keep your head from shooting up to look at him. So far he’d only spoken two sentences the whole time he’d been in the room, both containing four words, and yet both sets of four had been things that you’d never thought he’d say.

“What?” You questioned, not looking back up at him. He sighed, and you started to question if you were annoying him, which made you even more nervous. You may have been traveling together for a while, but he was still dangerous when irritated. On one trip he’d accompanied you and The Doctor on, he shot someone because they were sipping their tea too loudly.

“I said you’re not an ape.” He repeated, putting a finger under your chin to make you look at him. He smiled in a way that made you unsure of whether it was threatening or gentle.

“Don’t get me wrong; You were at first. The way you were tagging behind The Doctor all the time, asking questions every breath… I wanted to drop you off on an asteroid and continue with life. But then, you started paying attention to me.” He paused, and you let a soft snort leave you. _‘Of course, he just keeps me around for attention’_ you thought before he continued.

“You asked me questions instead of him, you grabbed my hand instead of his when we ran from his ideas-gone-wrong, you paired up with me to investigate situations instead of him, and you never showed the slightest bit of fear. Well, not of me at least.” He finished, smiling down at you. At this point, your thoughts were racing and your heart felt like it was going to explode from the speed it was going. You didn’t even think he’d noticed, and now that you realized that he did, it raised even more problems in your mind. What did he think that meant? Does he know that you like him? Was he about to switch and snap your neck, ending the whole moment? Where was he going with this?

“If you’re going to stare, at least explain what you’re thinking.” He joked, breaking you from the onslaught of fears running through your mind. You opened your mouth to speak, before thinking better of it and closing it again. After doing that about three times, he clamped a hand over your mouth.

“You’re the only human I’ve ever met that didn’t run away screaming when you see my face. That’s strange. You act like I’m the same as The Doctor.” He spoke softly as if he was hiding emotion that he didn’t want you to see. He removed his hand, and you gathered the courage to speak.

“You’re not.” You replied, and he immediately let out a cruel chuckle. He stepped away from you, bitterness written across his features.

“Of course I’m not. Why would you think I am? I thought you were different, I really did, but you’re not. You’re the same as all the-”

“You’re better.” His rant stopped instantly, as he looked at you with a mix of disgust and confusion. _Oh shit._ _You said that out loud, didn’t you? _He raised an eyebrow, a classic signal of his that you’d learned is his way of asking for elaboration.

“You’re better than him… to me, I mean.” You spoke again, and his features relaxed more into a look of scrutiny.

“Oh? How’s that?” He questioned. A test, of course. He does this when he’s debating hurting someone for saying something stupid. At this point, you had two options. You could make up something poetic to attempt to appease him, or you could tell the truth.

“You’re not as much of a goody-two-shoes. You do things for fun instead of the need to save people. You don’t throw me into harm’s way to save someone you just met, while The Doctor’s nearly killed me on multiple occasions.” You listed. You noticed that he tensed at the last sentence, but you continued, stepping towards him.

“You say and do such cruel things to others, and yet you’re more gentle with me, even though I’m a human. You’ve even defended me from The Doctor when he gets to be too much.” You said with a small laugh, but The Master’s face was still set in a frown, his eyes softer now. You shook your head to try to clear your thoughts.

“What I’m trying to say is that you treat me different. The Doctor treats me like I’m a dog he’s talking to a park for the first time, while you treat me like an actual person, albeit a stupid one sometimes.” Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you stepped close to him, your faces only a small space apart.

“I know I’m just an idiot compared to you both, but you make me feel… nice.” _‘Yeah, good word choice there, me’_ you fussed at yourself. He was looking down at you again with a look that you’d never seen on his face before.

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re not the monster that The Doctor paints you to be. You can be sweet, and caring, and he doesn’t see it but I do. You make me feel things that I thought I’d never get to experience with anyone, and I lov-” you stopped yourself quickly, your eyes widening as you realized that he’d piece it together quickly. You shook your head, backing away from him, before trying to rush past him, a rushed ‘I have to go’ leaving your lips.

What you didn’t count on was him catching your arm, spinning you to face him and putting his lips to yours. Every muscle in your body froze, and it seemed like his did too, until his free hand came up and grasped the back of your head, the one on your arm moving to your hip. You began to relax, but your arms stayed by your side, your mind not entirely sure what to do with them. He pulled back slightly, his hands not moving.

“You may be the craziest human I’ve ever met.” He mused with a smile, his fingers playing with your hair gently. You smiled up at him.

“Crazy enough to fall in love with an alien with two hearts and a love for lasers? Yeah, that sounds like me.” You agreed, your hand rising to cup his cheek.

“You know loving me is a dangerous game.” He spoke softly, his statement carrying both hope and warning.

“I’m willing to play it.” You replied, mimicking his signature rebellious smirk.

“The Doctor’s going to be upset.”

“He can deal with it.”

“Think you’ll be able to keep up with me full-time?”

“I can handle it.”

“Oh, like you handle Differential Calculus?”

_“… I will shoot you with your own screwdriver.”_


End file.
